


The Towel Incident

by Velace



Series: Random Moments [48]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 20:45:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14601345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velace/pseuds/Velace
Summary: Tired of waiting for Regina to make a move, Emma takes matters into her own hands.





	The Towel Incident

"Regina."

"Emma," she replies, eyes fixed to her desk.

"Re-gina."

"Em-ma."

Emma huffs. "Why won't you look at me?"

The answer to her question is both simple, and not. The simple portion of Regina's answer is this; Emma is in a towel. The not so simple; Regina really, really, really likes that Emma is in a towel and she doesn't quite know what to do with that. If she were to do more than briefly glimpse such a sight, surely she would lose control of her senses, and sense, and quite possibly attack her best friend slash the horribly endearing thorn in her side.

"I'm busy," she mutters.

"Doing what?" The smirk in her voice is obvious when Emma teases, "Wondering if your desk needs a new coat of varnish?"

Now that she mentions it…

Cheeks warming, Regina flicks her wrist, mahogany once again appearing dark and fresh. Emma chuckles and says, "I figured you would have noticed that before I did."

Regina sniffs. Under any other circumstance, she would have. "As I said," she drawls, "I'm busy."

"Uh huh."

Realizing the claim would likely hold more truth if there was something in front of her, she begins reaching for a few files she has yet to sort through and does her best to ignore the woman padding barefoot across her study. She would ask why Emma is in a towel, except she knows why; Emma's car had broken down and, for some unknown reason, she'd decided to walk to Regina's in the pouring rain, which she then decided meant she needed to use Regina's shower despite not having a change of clothes. Why she did any of that, however, is a mystery given she'd been closer to her parents, possessed magic, and— come to think of it, why she's in a towel when she possesses magic might genuinely be a good question to ask.

Despite that, Regina can't quite bring herself to do it. If she did ask and reminded Emma of said magic, then chances are Emma would immediately dress herself and then she'd no longer be able to pretend not to notice the occasional flash of delectable flesh from the corner of her eye.

And that would be a shame.

"So, what are you pretending to be busy doing?"

She has no choice but to look up, to see that adorably lopsided grin she knows is there from the tone alone, but her gaze stops on the underside of a thigh and— gods, what she wouldn't give to feel the warmth of those legs wrapped around her head.

Swiftly glancing back down, she murmurs, "Project proposals."

"Regina." She hums as she retrieves a pen, determined to do some work even though it's the last thing she wants to do. Emma sighs before demanding, "Look at me, Regina."

She twitches at the command. Being ordered about by Emma has been in the top five fantasies she's entertained on occasion for a while now. 

Lashes fluttering, her tongue flicks out against her lower lip before she takes a deep, silent breath. She opens her eyes and forces her gaze up, the breath catching in her throat, pen rolling along the desk and dropping to the floor at the sight of Emma no longer in her towel as she lounges on the couch.

Hand raised, lips quirked, Emma beckons and Regina finds herself standing; just as she feared, she's lost all sense. She can barely keep herself upright as she rounds her desk and crosses the room, her knees buckling to the point that when she finally reaches Emma, she willingly falls to them between her legs.

Emma shows neither surprise nor confusion as she leans forward to grab her chin and Regina stares into her eyes. Whatever words she might have come up with are forgotten in favour of marveling at the desire staring back at her.

Emma leans further in, their lips almost touching when she breathes, "Yes?"

Regina nods, lips parting for the emphatic yes on the tip of her tongue but Emma claims her mouth and all she can manage is a moan. Everything is warm and wet, and— fuck; she was not expecting Emma to be this good of a kisser. With the perfect amount of tongue and teeth, she slides her hands across Emma's thighs, gripping them roughly, eyes rolling to the back of her head in no time at all.

Breathless and panting, Emma pulls back and Regina is so so confused about why she stopped that it must show on her face because Emma laughs softly. "I have wanted to do that for a very, very long time," she confesses in a gravelly husk, stroking her cheek. "Thought you might want to know."

Regina groans. She would have liked to have known; later, when there weren't more important things they could be doing. She stretches her neck, pushing up on her knees, and reclaims Emma's lips, tongue sweeping into her mouth.

Before she knows it, she's surging up and shoving Emma back against the couch. She straddles her lap and moans when Emma clutches her hip, jerking her forward into the hard muscles of her stomach as Emma's other hand runs up her spine and fingers thread themselves through her hair, pulling just enough to send that heat in Regina's own stomach up a notch.

Fuck is the only thing she can think, and the first thing she says when they finally, regrettably part again. Her second thought is that her loss of composure just might be worth the terribly cocky and enchanting grin that paints Emma's mouth alongside her lipstick.

"Thanks, but you're better."

"How would you know?" She argues. "Kiss yourself often, do you?"

Emma wags her eyebrows like the idiot she is and replies, "Had to learn somehow."

Regina leans back in for more. "You're ruining the mood," she informs, capturing her mouth before Emma can offer up something even more idiotic in response.

No sound beyond the soft moan leaves Emma's lips. Regina hums, pleased. Had she known kissing her was such an effective way of shutting her up, she would have done it far sooner than five years down the line.

Eyes slipping shut, she sighs into her mouth and deepens the kiss, melting into it as she slides the hand from Emma's neck over a collarbone and down between breasts. The warmth of her chest reminds Regina of her state of undress and it is with the reminder that she realizes kissing Emma is no longer enough to sate the ever growing fire simmering beneath the skin.

Somehow, between feeling Emma's tongue curl around hers and losing what remains of her mind, she manages a single word, "More," before Emma is grabbing that same hand, guiding it down, down, down to somewhere increasingly warm, and then undeniably wet.

Emma bucks against her fingers as she brushes over a clit, swollen and straining, begging for a more direct touch. Regina ignores it for now, the slick heat of Emma's cunt far more enthralling. She'd known the attraction— the want was mutual, but she had no idea the extent of it, no idea that Emma desires her quite like this.

Her want of those legs around her head returns in force. She wants to drink Emma in, to feel the warmth of that desire coating her mouth. Just the thought is enough to pull a moan so deep from her throat that it startles them both.

It truly is unfair how endearing that grin is.

She stills. "Shut up."

It widens. "Didn't say anything," Emma counters before her lower lip disappears between teeth and she glances down. She murmurs, "Not gonna leave me hanging here, are you?"

"I might," Regina teases even as she resumes her exploration, fingers growing slicker by the second. Smirking, she slips effortlessly inside of Emma a moment later and adds, "Another time."

If the grin is unfair, then the look of pleasure that replaces it as Emma's head falls back against the couch is downright criminal. She doesn't know what that moan is, but her entire body heats up at the sound of it and suddenly her mouth is on Emma's throat, licking and sucking to coax more of those sounds into the air as she thrusts into her.

"Regina…" Growling at the hand tugging on her hair, she nips at flesh in warning. Her mouth tingles from the vibrations of Emma's chuckle. "Not a breast fan, then?"

Freezing, she blinks before slowly lifting her head, mind sluggish. She is most certainly a fan of breasts. Hell, she's fairly certain there isn't a single area on the female body that she isn't a fan of.

Emma tips her head forward, eyes darting down. Regina follows her gaze and swiftly lowers her mouth as realization dawns. She would slap herself for being so obtuse but given the alternative, she decides her time will be better spent making up for her neglect.

Cupping a breast in her freehand, she swirls her tongue around the stiff, pink peak, then sucks it into her mouth. The breathy little sigh it gets her has her humming and doubling her efforts to bring Emma as much pleasure as possible before its inevitable end.

Switching breasts, she adds teeth; a mistake she realizes too late when that end rushes towards them and Emma clamps down on her fingers. Releasing the nipple, Regina squeezes her eyes shut, barely stifling a second growl as she presses her forehead to Emma's sternum and quietly curses herself.

"Sorry," Emma whispers scant minutes later and her head snaps up, brow furrowing. Emma smiles softly, eyes glazed with the remnants of her pleasure. "It's been a while."

Carefully extracting her hand, she starts to question, "Is that why—"

She's not expecting the scowl, or for Emma to rise up and throw her down on the couch before climbing on top of her. "No," Emma denies vehemently, biting viciously at her lower lip.

Regina shudders, a small gasp escaping her before Emma silences it with her mouth. She groans, forgetting the thought altogether as she clutches Emma's back and surrenders to her.

 

* * *

 

Emma doesn't know what comes over her, but the idea that Regina thinks she was merely scratching an itch with her is horrifying at best and fucking heartbreaking at worst, and she's determined to prove otherwise. She's been thinking about them, like this, for years. She'd grown tired of waiting, of being hopeful that Regina might finally see this thing between them and do something about it. 

It took time, but she finally realized that if she wanted something to happen, then she needed to be the one to make it happen. Her car breaking down in the middle of a thunderstorm wasn't quite what she had in mind when she left her house this afternoon, nor was the shower or so brazenly revealing herself to Regina, but after seeing the look that crossed Regina's face when she entered her study in nothing more than a towel— well; no one would ever accuse Emma of not being impulsive.

"Your mouth should be a crime."

Smirking, she guides said mouth down Regina's chin and along her jaw. Tongue flicking the lobe of an ear, she rasps, "You should be a crime." 

Regina chuckles, tilting her head back as Emma peppers kisses across her cheek and down her neck, sucking briefly on her pulse point. "Going to arrest yourself, Sheriff?"

"Maybe—" she murmurs at a collarbone. "—definitely going to do you, though."

"Bold words," Regina says, "for someone who has yet to remove a single piece of my clothing."

Humming, Emma kisses her way back to an ear and sucks the lobe into her mouth this time. Nibbling lightly, she relishes Regina's little moan before releasing it and confessing, "If I'm going to risk your wrath stealing your panties, I want them ruined first."

"Is that so?"

"Mhmm." Straightening up and sitting back, she starts to undo Regina's blouse but pauses when she gets to the third button as hands slide up over her stomach, each palming a breast. She cocks a brow. "Can I help you?"

Regina grins impishly. "You truly do have magnificent breasts, dear."

Her cheeks heat with her blush but she brushes it off, deciding now is hardly the time to be embarrassed. She clears her throat. "Coming from the woman with the regal cleavage, I'm flattered," she drawls, "but you're kind of distracting me here."

With a squeeze and a low, dirty chuckle, the hands drop to her hips before Regina cocks a brow of her own and questions, "Better?"

No. 

"Ish," Emma half-lies, quickly undoing the remaining buttons and pushing open her blouse lest Regina decide to distract her again. Her breath leaves her in a rush; regal was definitely an understatement. "Jesus." 

"Your Majesty will do," Regina replies coyly.

"Okay—" Emma concedes, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "—My Majesty, it is."

"Even better," Regina purrs before she surges up once again and claims her mouth.

Emma caves to the incessant press of those lips ridiculously fast, eyes closing and mouth opening for the tongue that swipes over her lower lip. She moans aloud but sighs inwardly because at the rate they're going, she doubts she'll ever see Regina naked.

Hand on her chest, she forces her eyes open and shoves Regina back down to the couch at the thought, breaking the kiss and narrowing her eyes. She will see Regina naked if it's the last damn thing she does.  "No more distractions," she growls. "Off. All of it. Now."

Throat visibly bobbing with her swallow, Regina licks her lips and husks, "Panties?"

"All of it." 

Gaze darkening, the corners of her mouth quirk and she waves a hand. Emma sucks in a breath, not having accounted for the fact she's straddling her. Her clit throbs and she looks down, mouth drying when she finds the culprit of the unexpected tickling sensation is the coarse hair of a landing strip.

"What?"

Peering back up at Regina, she acknowledges the concern with a small smile and shakes her head. "Just readjusting a few fantasies," she admits, sneaking one last glance before she bends forward and kisses her again.

Hungry at first, it isn't long before the kiss turns languid, and then she's retreating from lips. Emma kisses a trail back down her throat to the hollow and presses her tongue into the dip, paying it the attention it deserves— the attention she has long been waiting to spend on it every time she imagines them in moments like this.

The hand stroking her back only encourages her to take her time and she does, licking and sucking, teeth grazing wherever her heart desires before deciding she's needed elsewhere and moving on. Regina's moans echo in her ears after she's fallen silent but the silence doesn't last long as more sounds arrive to fill it. 

Moans, gasps, whimpers; Emma catalogues every single one, savouring each before trying to gather more. When she settles on Regina's chest, mouth enveloping a breast, a moan unlike any she's heard yet rumbles beneath her lips and her body buzzes, feelings of pleasure and pride interwoven and making her warm all over.

"Emma…"

She loathes to part from her current task but the plea is clear and, like Regina, she doesn't wish to test the waters. Not just yet, and so she moves on, kissing herself a path from one breast to the other and nipping at each before descending further, mouth and tongue working their way down until she comes to another dip she couldn't resist even if she wanted to try.

She doesn't, and after a few minutes of bestowing loving attention on her bellybutton, Regina's breath escapes as something akin to a half-sigh, half-whine before she growls, "Emma."

Emma shivers, daring to look up, and swallowing thickly at the glare-not glare Regina fixes her with. Releasing the flesh from her teeth, she reluctantly returns to her ultimate goal and settles between Regina's legs, eyes slipping shut, dizzy with the scent that instantly encompasses her senses.

"Fuck, you smell so good."

"I taste even better."

The image the words conjure to mind has her mouth watering. "Fuck."

"That would be nice," Regina drawls, amusement in her voice. She presses a hand to the back of Emma's head, dragging nails against her scalp and sending a shiver down her spine. "Stop wasting time, Miss Swan."

 


End file.
